outlierii  ^Fnchcs. 


» 


CKCn.  GllAY; 


■>H    T}^K  s<  )i.i )]  i:irs   Tu:vKNO] 


f 


n 


ROSA  SHERWOOD; 


<  >\L   rviv  AVKxrn:n. 


^^■      At.~.     J  Mi     I^A     .7.    ll-VHKM:-^, 


N  '    V,     ■ .  J,  r.  I 

J..I.        I   >  ■,-!!.<.        N- 


^utttluirii  ^ktch^s* 


CECIL  GRAY; 


m.    THE    SOLI3IERS    KEVENOE. 


EOSA  SHERWOOD; 


OR,  THE  AVENGER. 


NATIA'K   OF   ALAEAIIA. 


X_E  W     (J  R  L  E  A  N  S :      • 

r'i'0!r:<j<Mil    .Jol)    I'jiiit,    TSto.  O-i   Oil  11  111    Street. 


\ 


CECIL    GRAY; 

OH,     THE     SOLDIER'S    RKVKNOE 


Soft  twilight  shades  ^ye^e  deepening  into  night,  and  from  the 
sky  the  stars  were  shining  bright;  and  as  the  pale  moon  arose 
in  queenly  beauty,  it  shone  through  the  window  of  a  noble 
mansion  in  A.,  mantling  with  its  silver  lines  the  beautiful  face 
of  Cecil  Gray,  as  she  sat  in  xoensive  sadness  gazing  listlessly 
around  upon  the  gorgeous  furniture  of  her  chamber.  Near  her 
was  a  small  table,  and  upon  it  lay  an  open  letter;  the  contents, 
perhaps,  the  cause  of  the  gloom  that  had  settled  upon  her  beau- 
tiful countenance — fair  Cecil  Gray !  wooed  by  all,  won  bj^  whom  ? 
We  will  trespass  a  moment  upon  the  rules  of  good  breeding, 
and  vrill  look  at  the  name  of  the  writer  of  that  hiUet-doux,  lying 
ojDen  before  her.  I  am  sure  we  will  not  be  seen  by  her,  as  her 
thoughts  are  too  intent  upon  other  things.  Stop,  I  have  seen 
it;  'tis  the  name  of  "Walter  Earnest.  Cecil  Gray  thinks  she 
loves  him,  yet  the  image  of  another  dearer  is  ever  rising  before 
her  mind  as  it  grows  more  and  more  distinct;  yet  she  feels  that 
to  banish  or  strive  to  cease  thinking  of  Elbert  Grant  will  accom- 
plish her  purpose ;  for  will  not  an  outward  show  of  affection  be 
sufficient  for  Walter  Earnest,  and  is  he  not  rich  and  distingu- 
ished as  an  eminent  lawyer  ?  Yes,  it  is  decided,  Walter  Earnest, 
and  no  other,  shall  gain  the  hand  of  Cecil  Gray.  So,  avray  with 
your  wooing,  Elbert  Grant,  for  Cecil  Gray  is  the  affianced  bride 
of  Walter  Earnest.  What  a  -sictory  to  achieve!  after  having 
made  manj^  hearts  ache  beneath  her  bewitching  glance. 

Such  were  the  thoughts  of  the  proud  beauty  as  we  found  her, 
so  intent  upon'  the  future — the  glory  of  the  eclat  that  would 
follow  her  debut  as  Mrs.  Lawyer  Earnest. 

Her  train  of  thought,  however,  did  not  remain  so  triumphant 
very  long,  for  an  ai)proaching  footstep  and  a  ring  at  the  hall 
door  warned  her  to  j)rei)are,  with  her  many  fascinating  graces, 
for  a  visitor. 

"Walter  E ,  I  know,"  said  Cecil,   as  she  approached  to 

open  the  door  herself;  and  "^-ith  a  smile,  but  not  for  Elbert 
Cirant,  for  it  was  no  other  than  he,  she  bade  him  enter,  and  be 
seated.  The  sudden  pallor  that  o'er  spread  her  features  betraj-ed 
,  an  uneasy  feeling,  but  to  Elbert  Grant,  Cecil  was  lovelier  than 
ever ;  'twas  some  moments  before  either  spoke  a  word,  and  when 
Elbert  Grant  did  sj)eak  he  broached  upon  a  subject  too  painful 
to  Cecil  for  her  to  hide  her  real  leelings. 

"What!     Cecil  Gray,"  said  Elbert  Grant,    " after  giving  me 

every  encouragement  necessary  to  confirm  it  in  my  mind,  that  I 

'     was  a  favored  suitor,  and  to  one  beloved :    after  having  to  un- 


[4] 

derstaiid  that  you  have  trifled  with  my  feeliiigs  I  am  now  to  be- 
spiuiied;  and,  too,  after  having  poured  out  my  all  of  love  upon 
the  shrine  I  thought  so  willing  to  return  my  adoration,  what  is 
my  retm-n?  The  dissembling  smiles  of  an  accomplished  cbquetie, 
is  all  I  have  for  reqiiital  for  my  almost  sacred  worship." 

"Speak  not  so,  Elbert  Grant,"  said  the  pale  and  agitated 
Cecil;  but  not  deigning  a  reply,  and  murmuring  a  hasty  fare- 
Avell,  Elbert  Grant  dei^arted. 

And  with  a  heavy  heart  did  he  pace  the  floor  of  his  apai'tment, 
u  small  office  in  A.,  plainly  but  neatly  furnished,  containing  a 
few  of  the  luxuries  of  a  student  of  medicine,  unlike  the  sump- 
tuous apartments  of  Walter  Earnest.  "Walter  E.  and  Elbert 
Grant  had  been  friends  and  associates  from  childhood;  but  now 
that  they  both  strove  to  gain  the  same  prize — rivals  in  love — 
there  was  a  growing  enmity  existing  between  them  that  it 
seemed  nought  could  eradicate. 

CHAPTER     II. 

After  Elbert  Grant  departed,  Cecil  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears, 
and  ^^"ith  the  most  agonizing  feelings,  prepared  to  di-ess  herself 
for  an  evening  party  to  which  "\V.  Earnest  had  promised  to  ac- 
company her. 

After  having  gone  through  with  all  the  graces  of  her  toilet, 
and  her  maid  having  pronounced  her  di'ess  comi^lete,  she  quietly 
sui'veyed  herself  in  an  opposite  mirror,  and  with  a  haughty  air, 
she  asked  of  her  maid:  "Do  you  not  think  me  a  x^rize  worthy 
to  be  gained  by  any  suitor  ?"  Of  course,  her  maid  answered  the 
question  satislhctorily,  and  after  having  flattered  her  with  all 
the  honeyed  words  she  knew  was  requisite  to  satisfy  her  mis- 
tress's pride,  she  descended  the  staii's  with  her  mistress,  and 
going  before  her  to  oi^en  the  parlor  door,  they  were  suddenh* 
confronted  by  W.  Earnest,  who,  after  pas.sing  the  Tisual  compli- 
ments upon  the  costume  of  his  fair  one,  he  proftered  his  arm  for 
her  acceptance.  Bowing  a  triumphant  assent,  she  took  it,  and 
its  being  the  hour  to  repair-  to  the  Soiree  at  Mrs.  Wilson's,  and 
as  it  was  but  a  short  distance  fi-om  Cecil's  father's,  they  were 
soon  mingling  in  the  gay  and  mirthfiil  crowd. 

Cecil  Gray  was  pronounced  the  belle  of  that  bright  assembly: 
and  as  murmurs  of  admiration  ran  through  the  gaj"  crowd,  all 
were  willing  to  declare  Cecil  Gray  the  brightest  star  among 
them.  There  was  one  who  watched  her  with  an  untiring  eye, 
and  v.hose  thoughts  were  upon  her  alone ;  little  dreaming  that 
the  haughty  Cecil  Gray  was  straggling  between  the  duty  of  love 
for  him  and  the  smiles  of  a  golden  fortune. 

Cecil  Gray's  parents  were  not  rich  but  were  styled  well  oft', 
and  through  many  worldly  trials  and  hard  struggles,  had  .suc- 
ceeded in  laying  up  a  small^tore  for  Cecil.  After  giving  her  a 
sound  education,  and  as  they  said,  after  making  a  lady  of  her. 
they  trusted  her  beauty  for  the  rest.  Thus  far  .she  had  succeed- 
ed in  plaj-ing  her  cards  well  as  to  the  manyiug  of  fortune,  for 
she  was  soon  to  be  the  bride  of  Walter  E . 


[  5  ] 
CHAPTER  III. 

Cecil  after  having  mingled  for  some  time  in  the  gixy  dance 
until  she  was  beginning  to  feel  fatigued,  she  sought  the  quiet  of 
an  adjoining  gallery,  where  in  its  solitude  she  strove  to  lull  the 
wild  throbbings  of  her  breast  but  it  was  not  there  to  be  found, 
for  Elbert  Grant  noticed  her  departure :  and  as  he  had  went 
there  alone  to  get  an  opiDortunity  to  speak  to  her,  it  was  all  he 
wished,  and  as  he  followed  her  he  was  soon  by  her  side.  Cecil 
seemed  very  much  surprised,  but  recovering  her  self  possession, 
she  bowed  a  cold  good  evening  to  Elbert  Grant,  who,  scarcely 
noting  the  condescension,  sprang  to  her  side  and  with  hurried 
and  passionate  vehemence,  exclaimed: 

"Oh,  Cecil!  Precious  Cecil,  can  I  not  hope  yet?  will  j'ou 
not  give  me  one  hope  to  cling  to;  'tis  hard  to  part  from  my 
heart's  idol,  give  it  u^d  forever?" 

Cecil  Gray  would  have  given  the  world  to  soothe  his  sorrow, 
Ijut  she  could  not  give  up  the  thought  of  a  glittering  fortune, 
and  striving  to  speak  with  more  determination,  she  replied  to 
his  passionate  appeal: 

'•Elbert  Grant,  there  is  many  a  fairer  form  than  mine,  many 
a  brighter  eye,  a  sweeter  smile  that  can  live  for  you,  go  and 
seek." 

_  "So,"  said  Elbert,  "you  bid  me  go,  quit  the  land  of  my  nati- 
vity forever;  yes,  I  vdll  go,  but  not  to  seek  at  your  command, 
but  go  retaining  the  undying  love  within  my*^  breast  for  you. 
Farewell — Oh!   Cecil  Gray,  remember!" 

He  departed,  and  it  was  well  for  Cecil,  as  "Walter  E was 

not  long  waiting  for  her  but  was  soon  by  her  side,  and  with  a 
look  of  some  surprise,  asked:  "Wh};  this  seclusion,  fair  Cecil, 
when  so  many  are  waiting  your  coming?"  and  iDointing  at  the 
same  time  to  the  dancers,  said,  "there  is  no  life  without  you." 
Cecil  could  scarcely  suppress  a  tear  as  she  took  his  arm  to  re- 
sume her  place  among  the  dancers. 

The  music  soon  was  hushed,  the  sound  of  rushing  feet  was 
still,  and  quiet  reigned  once  more  at  Mrs.  Wilson's.  Two 
o'clock  found  Cecil  and  Walter  Earnest  on  their  way  home. 

AValter  E was  silent  for  some  moments,  when  he  suddenly 

turned  to  Cecil  and  asked  her  if  she  had  seen  Elbert  Grant  at 
the  party,  or  whether  she  had  spoken  to  him  or  not.  Cecil 
would  fain  have  denied  speaking  to  him,  but  she  feared  she  had 
been  discovered;  and  as  she  answered  and  told  him  where  she 
had  seen  him,  W.  Earnest  felt  a  pang  of  jealousy, 'and  with  a 
slight  tremor  in  his  voice  that  betrayed  the  workings  of  his 
passion,  he  remarked  that  E.  Grant  did  not  remain  long  at  the 
party,  and  inquired— 

"  Were  you  the  cause  of  his  sudden  departure?  I  say,  Cecil, 
be  candid  with  me." 

"  Perhax^s  I  was,"  replied  Cecil. 

"Perhaps,  you  are  not  certain  then;  I  am  certain,"  sai-d 
Walter  Earnest.    "  for  after  lookinu"  m  for  a  brighter  eve  and  a 


[  c] 

sweeter  smile  he  depurtecl.  Beware  I  Cecil  Gray,"  resumed 
Walter  Earnest,  "if  there  is  any  attachment  existing  ])etweeu 
you  and  Elbert  Grant,  I  am  not  the  man  to  be  deceived." 

"  "Why  do  you  speak  thus  V"  said  Cecil,  "have  I  ever  given 
you  any  reason  to  think  that,  after  giving  you  my  heart  and 
hand  that  another  is  prefeiTcd." 

"God  forbid,"  said  "Walter  Earnest,  and  after  exchanging  re- 
peated vows  of  constancy,  they  separated  at  the  door  of  Cecil's 
house. 

Cecil  Gray  to  the  slumberless  rest  of  an  uneasy  mind  and 
Walter  Earnest  to  bask  in  dreams  of  love  and  happiness. 

CHAPTER  IX.   • 

Time  wore  on  marked  with  a  fleeting  breath  to  Walter  Ear- 
nest. How  he  longed  to  clasp  Cecil  Gray  to  his  heart  and  call 
her  wife;  and  with  a  growing  impatience  he  again  sought  her 
father's  residence,  when,  finding  Cecil  in  all  the  charms  of  lan- 
guid loveliness,  he  beseeched  her,  with  all  the  eloquence  of  love, 
to  set  the  day  that  would  complete  his  happiness.  She  finally 
blessed  him  with  the  promise  of  an  appointed  dav,  which  was 
the  4th  of  July,  185—. 

Great  prej^arations  were  being  made  at  Gray' Mount  for  the 
approaching  event,  which  was  to  launch  Cecil  Gray  on  the 
ocean  of  matrimony.  Oh,  how  happy  was  Walter  Earnest,  and 
with  all  the  pride  of  a  chosen  he  invited  his  numerous  fi-iends 
to  partake  of  the  good  cheer  of  his  wedding  morn. 

After  inviting  all  that  he  could  well  remember — he  did  not 
forget  to  seek  out  Elbert  Grant  as  one  of  the  select  invited. 
Ungenerous  Walter,  he  only  wished  him  to  behold  the  consum- 
mation of  his  own  misery:  but  Elbert  Grant  was- gone.  Walter 
made  several  inquiries  as  to  where  Elbert  was  gone  but  none 
led  to  his  discovery.  Walter  Earnest,  after  finding  his  search 
fruitless,  returned  to  his  office  and  then  "vsith  the  helj)  of  various 
superfluities — pomatum  and  broad  cloth — he  soon  came  out  a 
jjolished  bridegroom. 

And  soon  amidst  the  numerous  congratulations  of  his  friends, 
accompanied  by  them,  he  repaired  to  Gray  Mount,  where,  after 
greeting  the  vast  assembly  there,  and  ha^'ing  been  sufficiently 
flattered  by  all,  he  could  wait  no  longer;  and  with  what  a  happy 
smile  did  Walter  Earnest  stand  by  his  fair  bride,  and  with  a 
clear  deep  voice  vowed  faith  and  constancy'  unto  the  end. 

Cecil  Gray's  voice  trembled  as  she  was  bade  by  the  aged  pas- 
tor to  take  "\Valter  Earnest  as  her  owti  forever.  Her  words  were 
scarcely  audible,  such  were  the  deep  emotions  of  her  heart. 
Yet,  all  thought  Cecil  Gray  happy.  How  .she  wished  .she  had 
never  seen  Walter  Earnest ;  how  she  prayed  that  death  might 
relieve  her. 

Ah,  vain,  vain,  Cecil  Gray,  too  late  came  your  sad  regrets, 
pledged,  you  are  won  as  the  wife  of  Walter  Earnest,  who  thinks 
that  he  alone  is  beloved  by  you. 


[  7  J 

CHAPTEE  Y. 

Elegantly  and  expensively  furnished  was  the  tiitnre  house  of 
Cecil  Earnest,  witlf  all  the  luxuries  that  southern  wealth  could 
afford;  and  after  remaining  a  few  days  longer  at  her  father's 
house,  Cecil  bade  adieu  to  the  scenes  made  dear  by  associations 
from  childhood,  and  sought  with  Walter  Earnest,  the  comforts 
of  their  own  fireside. 

In  vain  Cecil  strove  to  be  happy.  All  the  endearing  epithets 
that  were  all  her  own;  all  the  tender  smiles  that  "Walter  cast 
upon  her,  failed  to  call  forth  one  beam  of  happiness.  Yet  Wal- 
ter Earnest  believed  Cecil  happy;  believed  that  all  her  smiles 
were  reflected  from  a  true  heart  that  lived  for  him  alone. 

How  well  did  Cecil  deceive  him,  making  him  content  for  a 
while  with  an  outward  show  of  affection.  But  it  was  not  long- 
so,  Walter  Earnest  soon  learned  to  feel  wretched,  to  know  that 
his  wife  did  not  exhibit  the  right  kind  of  feeling  for  him. 
Labor  was  irksome  to  him,  business  lost  the  charm  of  steadi- 
ness, and  after  vainly  trying  something  new,  he  gave  up  all  en- 
terprising pursuits  and  finally  lapsed  into  listless  inactivity. 

Years  rolled  on  and  two  lovely  babes  lived,  but  not  to  bless 
their  unhappy  union.  How  Walter  Earnest  worshipped  his 
childi-en,  so  did  Cecil;  yet  despite  their  childish  innocence  they 
failed  to  unite  those  wretched  hearts. 

And  at  last  when  the  tramp  of  war  sounded  throughout  our 
beloved  country,  calling  for  every  brave  heart  to  join  in  the 
struggle  for  liberty  and  independence,  gladly"  did  Walter  Ear- 
nest respond  to  its  calling,  and  getting  a  commission  as  Captain 
he  bade  adieu  to  his  precious  children,  Cecil  and  home,  and 
with  a  noble  band  entered  in  active  service  in  Yirginia.  No 
sad  regrets,  no  sigh  of  grief  were  breathed  by  Cecil  at  parting; 
but  as  an  unfaithful  feeling  of  relief  came  over  her  as  she  gazed 
at  the  receding  form  of  W.  Earnest,  she  resolved  to  free  herself 
from  him  forever.  She  knew  well  she  could  not  present  any 
reasonable  demand  for  a  divorce,  and  after  reflecting  long  upon 
the  subject,  she  concluded  to  leave  her  home  accompanied  by 
her  children,  and  seek  a  home  among  some  of  her  relatives  in 
the  North ;  and  knowing  Elbert  Grant  was  there  she  wished,  of 
course,  to  meet  him. 

As  she  one  evening  was  pondering  over  her  future  determina- 
tions, and  quietly  looking  on  the  innocent  plaj^  of  her  children, 
— for  she  loved  ever  thus  to  be  occupied — for  Cecil  idolized 
them  both.  As  she  was  thus  musing  she  heard  a  low  knock  at 
the  door  and  rising  to  oj)en  it,  she  was  accosted  by  a  wayworn 
soldier,  wearing  the  garb  of  a  Confederate  trooper.  Bidding 
him  welcome,  and  after  setting  before  him  some  delicate  re- 
freshments, partly  prepared  by  her  own  hands,  Cecil  ventured 
to  ask  his  name,  as  there  was  something  in  his  features  that 
awakened  tender  memories  of  old  in  the  bosom  of  Cecil  Ear- 
nest. 

"  Grant  is  my  name,"  said  the  soldier. 


[8  J 

"Grant!  great  God  I"  almost  scroamed  Cecil,  "are  you 
Elbert  Grant's  brother;  for,  Oh,  yon  are  his  image?" 

"I  am,"  quietly  replied  the  soldier,  "Elbert  Grant  is  my 
brother;  but,"  said  he,  "I  must  be  going."* 

"Stay,  stay,"  cried  Cecil,  "fear  nothing:  and  tell  me,  oh.  tell 
me  !"  she  passionately  exclaimed,  "where  Elbert  Grant  isV" 

Leon  Grant  not  seeming  at  all  suii:)rised  at  this  demonstra- 
tion of  feeling  in  the  fair  Cecil,  he  answered: 

"  Elbert  Grant,  my  brctther.  is  an  officer  in  the  Federal  army, 
madam ;  and  being  acquainted  with  the  past  history  of  his  at- 
tachment to  a  lady  in  this  conntiy.  Miss  Cecil  Gray,  I  believe, 
perhaps  I  am  not  mistaken  in  the  person  before  me.  Ai-e  you 
Cecil  Gray?"  but  looking  around,  —  "whose  children  are  these 
two  beautiful  ones  here '.■'     Ai-e  you  married ?" 

"  O,  unhappy  me  I"  exclaimed  Cecil,  "yes,  man-ied,  and 
those  angels  are  mine.  And  I  am  so  wretched,  for  I  never  loved 
but  one  and  that  one  is  Elbert  Grant,  whose  precious  image 
haunts  me  night  and  day." 

"  Calm  yourself,"  said  Leon,  "perhaps  it  will  be  some  com- 
fort to  yoii  to  know  that  my  brother  still  lives  for  you  and  you 
alone.  "  And  I  have  often  heard  him  say.  although  you  treated 
him  so  unkindly,  yet  it  could  never  chill  his  undying  affection 
for  you, — but  stop,  madam,  I  must  be  going,  and  uovn*  that  I 
can' trust  you,  I  must  confess  that  I  am  a  Federal  soldier  mj-self, 
or  will  be'one  as  soon  as  I  reach  my  brothers  command  on  the 
banks  of  the  Potomac," 

"Then,  you  will  see  himl"  passionately  exclaimed  Cecil, 
"tell  him,  O,  tell  him,  how  I  still  love  him,  how  I  have  suffered 
for  him;  and  that  I  would  give  the  world  to  see  him." 

"  But,"  said  Leon,  turning  suddenly  to  Cecil,  "where  is  your 
husband?" 

"  He  was  killed  in  the  battle  of  Miinassas,"  replied  Cecil. 

"  So  you  are  a  -vN-idow.  Is  there  any  commands  for  my  bro- 
ther?   I  would  be  happy  to  be  the  bearer." 

"Yes,  yes,  wait,"  said  Cecil,  and  seating  herself  she  wrote  a 
hasty  note  as  follows  : 

Elbekt  Grant,  U.  S.  A. 

Dearest  Elheri — I  know  you  will  be  suii:)nsed  at  the 
receipt  of  this,  and  too,  fi-om  one  you  believe  to  have  forgotton 
you  and  ceased  to  think  of  you.  Your  brother  will  tell  you  all. 
b.  dear  Elbert,  how  -v^Tctched  I  have  been:  how  oft'  have  I 
wished  myself  dead  for  the  ciiiel  treatment  you  have  received  at 
my  hands'.  O,  Dearest  Elliert.  can  you  forgive  me :  one  who 
has  loved  you  so  long.     Comfort  me.  I  am  so  wretched. 

Your  taithful 

Cecil, 

CHAPTEli  YI, 

L^'on  Grunt  after  many  hair  1  )readth  escapes,  finally  reached 


[!•  ] 

the  uoitlieru  ciimp  ou  the  banks  of  the  Potomac,  aud  after  doff- 
ing his  disguise  he  made  himself  known  to  his  sni"j)rised  and 
happy  brother. 

' '  Is  it  indeed  j'oii,  Leon, "  said  Elbert  Grant,  ' '  how  glad  I 
am  to  see  you?  Any  news  of  a  rebel  movement  below?"  said 
he,  with  some  anxiety. 

"All  quiet,"  replied  Leon,  '-passed  right  through  the  lines. 
Lee  is  calm  as  a  summer's  morn. " 

"  I  guess  you  are  tired  and  would  like  some  refreshments," 
said  Elbert,  and  retiring  into  the  tent,  beckoned  Leon  to  follow 
him.  '-Here  is  some  good  old  madeira,"  said  he,  "will  vou  try 
it?" 

"Not  until  I  have  given  j'ou  another  slight  surprise,"  said 
Leon,  and  searching  in  his  overcoat  he  withdi'ew  from  one  of 
its  ample  pockets  a  small  package ;  after  unfolding  it  he  threw 
it  to  his  brother,  exclaiming:  "there  Ell.  is  something  you  are 
little  looking  for." 

"What,  a  letter,  and  fi-om  whom?"  inquired  Elbert,  and 
glancing  at  the  name  of  the  writer  he  hurriedly  exclaimed: 
"Cecil  Earnest,  my  God  I  what  does  this  mean?" 

"Be  quiet,"  said  Leon,  "perhax)s  you  can  do  something  for 
the  fair  widow. " 

"  My  Cecil  man-ied,  and  a  widow !" 

"She  told  me  so,"  said  Leon,  and  after  narrating  his  adven- 
tures, together  with  an  account  of  Cecil  and  family,  he  added: 
"She  would  give  the  world  to  see  you,  Elbert." 

"  Did  she  say  so,  my  poor  Cecil?  Yes,  see  her  I  will,  though 
Lee  sweeps  the  hordes  of  the  north  to  the  Red  Sea.  So,  brother, 
come,"  said  Elbert,  "  advise  me,  not  another  moment's  rest  can 
I  have  until  I  have  gained  the  port  where  hies  my  own  Cecil." 

"Perhaps  jon  had  better  wait.  The  army  would  not  like  to 
lose  such  an  able  officer.  A  few  more  inonths  may  put  an  end 
to  this  hated  struggle,  then  you  can  greet  Cecil  'neath  the  ban- 
ner of  peace." 

CHAPTER  YII. 

AVe  will  now  follow  Walter  Earnest  in  his  dreary  wanderings 
through  the  proud  old  State  of  Virginia. 

After  leaving  home  he  reached  Virginia  in  safety,  and  partici- 
pated in  several  battles  there,  not  receiving  a  single  wound. 
He  was  finally  sent  with  reinforcements  to  the  valley  of  Missis- 
sippi. Walter  Earnest  cared  but  little  for  life,  it  had  but  little 
charms  for  him,  yet  he  still  worshipped  his  children;  and  but 
for  them,  he  was  often  heard  to  remark,  he  would  never  dodge 
a  cannon  ball. 

In  the  meantime  Cecil's  letters  became  less  frequent,  as  she 
had  an  object  in  not  wishing  to  receive  any  letters  from  him. 
As  she  found  it  necessary  to  remain  at  home  we  will  explain  her 
object:  She  knew  that  if  Grant  still  lived  that  he  would  seek  to 
find  her;  and,  furthermore,  she  knew  that  Walter  Earnest  had 


[  10  ] 

no  intention  of  returning  home  until  the  var  was  over.  So  she 
knew  if  she  circulated  a  report  respecting  the  death  of  Walter, 
throughout  the  neighborhood,  that  it  would  be  readily  believed, 
and  that  if  she  ceased  to  ^^Tite  to  him  he  would  cease  to  write  to 
her,  thus  contirming  her  stor\'  of  his  death.  She  acted  accord- 
ingly, and  soon  she  was  known  as  the  Widow  Earnest. 

She  had  heard  fi-om  some  source  that  Elbert  Grant  was  on 
his  way  to  se*  her.  She,  of  course,  was  overjoyed  at  the 
thoughts  of  marrying  him. 

We  will  now  leave  her  to  her  inglorious  reflections  and  return 
to  Walter  Earnest,  whose  bravery  and  valor  as  a  soldier  and 
officer,  had  won  him  many  friends:  even  his  enemies  were  forced 
to  confess  their  recognition  of  his  brilliant  achievements  on  the 
held  of  battle. 

The  rumor  of  an  approaching  battle  was  rife  throughout  the 
tair  Mississippi  valley,  and  every  brave  heart  was  ready  to  par- 
ticiiDate  in  its  bloody  scenes;  and  as  they  impatiently  waited  the 
signal  for  the  strife  they  were  not  left  in  suspense,  for  soon  the 
cannons  were  booming  loud  and  long,  shot  and  shell  hailed  rife 
o"er  the  battle  ground;  groans  of  the  wounded  and  dying  were 
heard  above  the  crack  of  the  unerring  rifle.  And  in  the  midst  of 
the  heartless  strife  was  seen  a  steed  and  rider  plunging  thro'  the 
mass  of  struggling  souls,  and  high  above  the  flashing  artillery 
was  heard  the  tones  of  command  from  a  deep  clear  voice,  which, 
none  that  knew  could  foil  to  recognise  as  the  voice  of  Walter 
Earnest. 

He  met  the  deathly  missiles  with  unwavering  bravery.  And 
when  the  smoke  died  away,  leaving  the  ground  victorious  to 
our  Southern  boys,  we  see  the  same  noble  officer  charging 
through  the  camj)s,  bearing  from  the  ground  a  rifle,  saddle  bags, 
holsters,  «S:c.,  as  trophies  of  the  Shiloh  fight.  His  face  is  un- 
usually pale,  and  as  we  scan  his  features  more  closeh',  we  can 
see  the  Avorkiugs  of  deep  emotions. 

Halting  at  his  tent  and  thro\\-ing  the  bridle  carelessly  to  his 
charger  he  left  him  to  graze  at  will,  while  he  proceeded  to  dis- 
play his  won  treasures  to  the  gaze  of  his  admiring  fiiends. 

On  a  carved  silver  plate,  the  mounting  of  the  holster,  was  en- 
graved the  name  of  E.  Grant,  Col.  commanding  5th  X.  Y.  lieg. 
Walter  Earnest  refused  to  answer  any  inquiries  concerning  his 
trouble,  for  all  knew  he  was  laboring  under  some  new  excite- 
ment. W.  Earnest  proceeded  to  empty  the  saddle  bags  of  its 
contents,  and  among  the  many  things  it  contained  was  the 
letter  from  Cecil  to  Grant,  sent  him  by  his  brother  Leon. 

On,  on,  rushed  AValter  Earnest,  with  maddening  fury,  to  the 
head  quarters  of  his  commander,  demanding  a  furlough  home, 
giving  as  his  excuse  and  vash  for  such  a  sudden  determination 
urgent  business.  Determined  to  rescue  his  children,  that  desire 
and  the  desire  of  revenge  now  alone  filled  his  breast. 

He  determined  to  kill  Grant  if  he  ever  crossed  his  pathway. 
How  sweet  to  him  was  the  thoughts  of  revenge. 

Earnest  failed  to  get  a  furlough  at  that  time,  Vmt  after  repeated 


[  11  ] 

applications  fiuall}'  succeeded  in  getting  an  unlimited  one. 
Elbert  Grant  was  an  honorable  man;  O  how  cruellj'he  had  been 
deceived  by  Cecil  Earnest. 

CHAPTEE  YIII. 

The  cool  soft  winds  were  wafting  from  the  bowers  the  svv'eetest 
perfume  of  the  lovely  flowers.     And  as  the  evening  shades  grew 

dim  upon  the  wide  prairies  of  F ,  still  the  form  of  a  weary 

horseman  is  plainly  visible,  and  as  he  urges  his  steed  to  a 
quicker  pace  we  can  see  plainly  that  he  is  in  a  deep  study.  Sad 
is  the  expression  of  his  noble  brow,  as  he  seems  to  be  laboring 
under  some  deep  emotions. 

He  starts  suddenly'  as  an  old  familiar  way-sign  greets  his  tear- 
ful eye.  But  it  is  not  with  a  bounding  home  again  does  he 
quicken  his  pace ;  no,  for  he  would  fain  enter  his  own  neighbor- 
hood secretly,  as  a  hunter  vdshiug  ,to  deprive  a  tigress  of  her 
young. 

Taking  a  secluded  path  through  the  skirt  of  a  deep  woodland 
adjoining  his  own  possessions,  wishing  to  avoid  any  encounter 
with  familiar  faces,  he  slowly  and  cautiously  rode  along,  heed- 
ing not  the  shades  of  night  that  was  ^^Tapping  all  nature  in  its 
sombre  mantle.  His  thoughts  on  his  j)recious  children  and  on 
bygone  days. 

He  scarcely  heeded  a  voice  calling:  "Walter,  Walter  Earnest; 
great  God  I  is  that  you,  when  the  whole  country  has  been  rife 
with  the  news  of  your  death  long  ago,  and  your  widow?" 

Earnest  not  deigning  any  ceremony  replied:  -'Yes,  Sammy 
ivichards,  it  is  I." 

Richards  was  an  old  Mend  and  had  suddenly  confronted 
"Walter  in  the  forest  on  his  way  home  fi-om  a  hunt. 

Earnest  inquired  anxiously:  '-Sam,  is  all  right  oyer  there  ?" 
pointing  to  his  own  house. 

Richards  not  waiting  any  further  explanations  replied: 
'•Earnest,  your  widow  is  to  be  married  to  night  to  some  gi'and 
fellow,  I  believe  his  name  is  Grant." 

"To  be  man-ied,  great  God,  thinks  me  dead!  Well,  stop, 
Sam  Richards,  not  a  word  of  me — " 

Walter  Eai-nest  would  fain  behold  her. 

"I  would  fain  see  if  her  voice  trembles  while  giving  the 
sacred  vow.     Let  no  one  know  I  am  about." 

"All  right,"  said  Richards,   "you  know  you  can  trust  me." 

Walter  Earnest  after  leaving  his  steed  securely  bound  in  an 
adjacent  wood,  taking  his  gun  with  him,  crept  softly  towards  his 
dwelling. 

As  he  drew  near  he  beheld  his  house  in  a  blaze  of  splendor, 
crowded  with  the  elite  of  A — — .  He  wanted  only  to  see  one 
form,  to  recognise  one  face. 

Hour  after  hour  went  by,  he  wavered  not.  Patiently  waiting 
he  at  last  beheld  Cecil.  Magnificently  attired  in  her' wedding 
dress,  hanging  lovingly  upon  the  ann  of  Elbert  Grant. 


[  12  ] 

All  was  commotiou ;  cveiy  eye  wished  to  behold  the  consum- 
mation of  so  much  happiness. 

As  Cecil  was  breathing  her  fervent  vow  the  crack  of  a  pistol 
was  heard,  a  scream,  and  the  manlj-  noble  form  of  Elbert  Grant 
was  laid  low  in  death.  None  knew  there,  from  whence  he  had 
received  his  death  portion.  But  all  knew  that  Cecil  Earnest's 
heart  was  well  nigh  broke. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Moaning  with  pain,  lay  Cecil  Earnest.  Heeding  not  the  de- 
parture of  her  children  as  they  stole  softly  ti-om  her  chamber, 
and  whispering:  "there,  let  mama  rest." 

No,  she  knew  not  that  she  had  gotten  the  last  glimpse  of 
their  angel  faces.  On  went  the  innocent  ones  nntir  they  were 
finally  out  of  sight  of  the  house,  and  revelling  in  their  innocent 
amusements,  thej'  were  suddenly  alarmed  by  a  noise  behind 
them^  and  rising  to  flee  homeward  they  were  each  called  by 
name:  recognizing  their  father's  voice,  they  sprang  to  him,  and 
clasping  him  lovingly  around  the  neck,  exclaimed: 

"  O  papa,  is  this  you  ?  Have  you  come  to  see  mama,  she  is 
so  sick'?*' 

"Hush,  hush,"  said  "Walter,  "make  no  noise,  come  with 
papa." 

Following  him  in  mute  sitrprise  they  quietly  obeyed,  and 
taking  a  seat  in  the  vehicle  he  had  in  waiting  they  were  soon 

upon  the  road  to  St.   L ,  where  they  were  to  take  a  boat. 

His  mother  residing  in  'M he  intended  having  them  reared 

under  her  charge. 

CHAPTER  X. 

Cecil  Earnest  awoke  from  her  litful  slumbers,  and  calling  for 
her  childi-en  she  was  frantic  with  despair  when  her  maid  in- 
formed her  of  their  absence. 

Xo  one  made  any  effort  to  recover  them,  for  by  that  time  Sam 

R ,    knoAving  W.  Earnest  was  gone,    had  made   it   known 

thi-oughout  the  neighborhood  that  he  had  seen  him.  All  knew 
it  was  just,  that  she  well  deserved  her  -sATetchedness.  Few  at- 
tended Cecil  Earnest  in  her  last  hours  but  a  faithful  old  servant 
and  Leon  Grant,  who  was  with  her  nntiiiugly.  Elbert  Grant, 
Lessie  and  Maud,  the  names  of  her  childi-en,  were  incoherently 
Tittered  in  her  last  moments. 

Oh !  what  a  sad  ending  to  one  but  for  vanity  would  have  been 
so  happy. 

In  the  quiet  gi-ave  yard  of  A. ,  is  interred  the  unhappy  Cecil  Ear- 
nest, and  above  her  "vnitten  upon  a  marble  slab  is  this  inscrip- 
tion, by  Leon  Grant : 

IX  :memoey  of 
Cecil  Earnest,  whose  undj-ing  devotion  to  one   caused  her  to 
forget  her  duty  as  a  wife  to  another — peace  to  hek  ashes. 


ROSA  SHERWOOD; 

OR.    THE    AVENGER. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Silence  reigned  throughout  the  rebel  camp  on  the  banks  of 
the  Potomac. 

The  steady  tramp  of  the  sentinel  was  the  only  martial  sound 
heard  save  the  crack  of  a  picket  gun  on  guard,  more  frequently 
shooting  at  some  passing  game  than  at  an  enemy. 

The  soldiers  were  lounging  around  the  tents  in  all  the  luxury 
of  a  rest  after  a  fatiguing  march  of  five  days. 

There  was  a  group  of  fine  looking  fellows  standing  aloof  from 
the  rest  enjoying  a  quiet  confab,  seeming  to  have  no  desire  of 
disturbance  from  the  rest  of  their  fellow  comrades. 

"  What  a  dreary  life  we  lead  here,"  said  one;  "without  the 
smile  of  lovely  woman  Earth  is  indeed  a  WTetched  wilderness, 
made  up  with  what  is  generally  termed  men,  but  truthfully 
speaking,  a  set  of  brutes. " 

"  For  my  part,"  said  another,  whose  scowling  face  and  wicked 
looking  eyes,  proclaiming  him  one  of  the  "homo  genus"  that 
cared  but  little  for  the  fair  sex,  "for  my  part,"  said  he,  "I 
think  men  vrould  get  along  better  without  ever  getting  a  glimpse 
of  the  deceitful  creatures." 

"What,  you,  Yalery!"  said  his  comrade,  "a  man  who  I 
thought  could  scarcely  endure  the  service,  because  it  veiled  him 
from  the  sight  of  some  charming  face," 

"Not  I,  Nelson,"  replied  Yalery,  "I've  got  enough  of  one 
girl  in  this  world  I  I  believe  I  did  love  her,  but  it  is  done  and  I 
can't  help  it." 

"Done  what ?"  said  Nelson. 

Valery  Lee  looked  up  surprised,  and  only  replied: 

"  Tut,  tut,  I  was  only  talking  at  random." 

"  So,"  said  Nelson,  "  you  will  tell  us  no  more  of  the  'fairj-.* 
I  dare  say  she  has  you  irrevocably  charmed."  And  the  merr\- 
fellow  broke  forth  into  a  loud  laugh  at  the  frowns  on  Valery's 
brow,  called  forth  by  his  sentimental  accusation. 

"Not  I,"  replied  Yalerv,   "  there  you  are  indeed  mistaken." 

"Well,"  said  another,  "  I  do  not  wish  to  be  kept  in  this  cruel 
war  long,  if  I  am  to  be  kept  from  the  sight  of  one  bright  eyed 
fairy,  whose  image  reflects  sunshine  to  my  now  lonely  heart." 

"Oh,  if  I  was  at  home,"  said  another,  "  I  would  show  you 
that  Susie  was  beloved  by  me;  if  I  am  one  of  the  homeliest  "fel- 
lows in  the  whole  company." 


(  11  ] 

After  this  outbur.-it  ol'  bentimcnt  from  our  homely  hero,  the 
reply  from  one  of  his  comrades  was: 

"Hush,  hush,  Hai-old  ;  you  are  not  the  only  ugly  fellow  in 
the  crowd,  for  look  yonder!"  pointing  to  a  fellow  comrade  op- 
posite him  who  was  so  intent  on  a  piece  of  bacon  and  bread. 

He  did  not  seem  to  think  there  was  no  little  sport  going  on  at 
his  espcnso. 

"Hello  there,  Eufus!"  said  one  of  our  chosen,  -'come  over 
here."' 

Eufus,  dropping  the  remainder  of  his  grub,  walked  slowly  over 
to  our  mess,  inquired  gniftty: 

'•  "What  do  you  want  A\-ith  me  ?" 

"We  want  to  see  Avhether  you  can  beat  "  Bob  Kendall." 
looking  ugly  or  not." 

' '  Suppose  you  represent  your  feelnigs  in  the  way  of  grimaces 
on  an  occasion  of  a  clean  up  of  our  ai-my  by  •  Our  Dearly  Be- 
loved Brudders,'  just  across  the  river,"  pointing  to  the  Yankee 
forces. 

••"NVell,  Bob,"  said  Kufus,  goodnatiu-edly,  "  since  we  are  the 
•  butt '  to-night,  suppose  we  make  them  ail  pay  well  for  the  ex- 
hibition ! 

"Good,"  said  Boll,  and  good,  cried  all.  "I,  for  oul-,'  said  a 
fun  loving  fellow,  "will  treat  to  some  good  old  Monongahela — 
by  the  Avay,  whieh  is  only  a  little  sweetened  water."  (Aside.) 

"Well,  begin,'*  said  Bob. 

Many  a  hearty  laugh  rang  out  that  night,  as  Eufus's  and 
Bob's  exhibition  was  in  process.  And  finally,  as  Eufus  gained 
the  victory,  he  was  triumphantly  earned  on  the  shoulders  of 
the  mess,  and  being  crowned  the  victor  of  the  occasion,  they 
set  him  down  to  a  camp  feast,  to  enjoy  the  glorj'  of  his  tri- 
umph. Rufus  was  heard  to  remark  in  the  course  of  his  enjoy- 
ment: "Egad,  there  is  something  in  being  tamal  uglv. 
after  all!" 

Such  were  the  many  instances  of  amusement  that  relieved 
the  dreariness  of  "camii  life"  among  our  "dear  Southern 
boys."     ^ 

To-night  it  seems  that  every  iacc  is  lighted  up  with  a  smile  of 
utmost  contentment,  as  all  are  revelling  in  their  various  en- 
joyments. 

All,  save  Yalery  Lee;  whose  surly  countenance  sj^eaks  plainly 
for  him,  that  his  thoughts  are  on  other  things. 

He  quietly  takes  a  seat  near  a  sentinel,  whose  gloomy  tread 
is  more  in  accordance  vrith.  his  feelings;  and  as  it  is  somewhat 
of  a  secluded  place,  ho  contents  himself  by  brooding  over 
some  past  misfortune. 

CHAPTEB  II. 

^\js  approaching  footstep  aroused  the  sentinel,  and  as  the  call 
for  the  "  watchword  "  is  given,  it  is  quickly  responded   to.  and 


[  1.-5  J 

at  the  word  *'pass/"a  .voutli  of  apparently  18  or  19  years  of 
age,  enters  the  *' rebel  camps." 

His  face  is  one  of  extremely  delicate  mould  ;  and  as  his  voice 
is  e  xceedingly  musical,  it  naturally  arouses  a  peculiar  interest 
in  the  mind  of  the  sentinel. 

The  sentinel  kindlv  inquired,  "where  bound  mv  voung 
fellow?" 

To  which  the  youth  replies,  "I  wish  to  see  iny  brother,  who 
is  Captain  of  Company  C,  Regiment ." 

*'  What  is  your  name,  my  good  fellow  ?" 

"Mortimer  Sherwood,  sir,  and  my  brother  is  Dwight  Sher- 
wood; perhaps  you  know  him." 

"Well,  I  think  I  do,  but  that  is  a  real  Northern  name!" 

"•True,  SU-,  we  are  both  natives  of  the  North,  but  as  our 
father  espoused  the  Southern  cause,  vre  of  course,  joined  vrith 
him  in  the  struggle.  But  my  brother,"  resumed  the  youth.  "  I 
T,-ould  like  to  get  some  directions  as  to  where  his  tent  is." 

"Well,  well,"  replied  the  sentinel,  "go  along,  and  as  yoa 
pass  No.  8,  just  to  your  right  is  Capt.  Sherwood's  tent." 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  youth,  and  moving  on,  soon  gained 
his  brother's  tent.  Entering  quietly  and  finding  his  brother 
alone,  soon  makes  himself  laiown  in  the  person  of  Eosa  Sher- 
wood in  disguise. 

"Ah!  my  little  sister,  I've  been  terribly  uneasy  about  you, 
and  now  that  you  are  here,  I  am  still  more  at  a  loss  to  know 
how  to  shield  you  from  discovery."  Her  woman's  wit  was 
ready,  as  she  quickly  replied  : 

"As  for  that,  Dwight,  just  give  me  a  more  complete 
disguise,  and  allow  me  to  serve  you  as  a  lackey." 

"Capital,"  replied  Dwight,  " step  behind  that  curtain,  Eosa, 
and  don  this  suit."  At  the  same  time  displacing  a  ragged  coat 
and  pants  and  slouched  hat.  "At  ycur  ser^-ice,  Made- 
moiselle." 

Eosa  quietly  obeyed,  and  as  she  again  made  her  appearance, 
Dwight  di'ew  his  sword  in  real  anger  ;  forgetting  Eosa  a 
moment,  supposing  her  to  be  some  thief,  and  when  Eosa  saw 
his  mistake,  she  cried :  ' '  Oh !  l:>rother  D%^'ight,  don't  you 
know  me  ?"  he  was  still  surprised.  But  when  she  doifed  her 
wig  and  displaying  a  \^Teath  of  golden  curls,  he  went  to  her, 
and  kissing  her  tenderly,  said:  "It  is  indeed  you,  my  poor, 
dear  little  sister  Eosa,  but  your  voice  darling,  had  changed." 
She  soon  satisfied  him,  by  opening  her  mouth  and  displaying 
at  the  same  time,  a  small  tube,  the  means  of  changing  her 
voice. 

"Well,  Eosa,  your  disguise  is  complete,  but  why  wish  to 
remain  so  long?     'NMiy  not  do  your  work  and   go  back  again?"' 

"0!  you  know  brother,  I  wait  to  listen  and  see  if  my  name 
is  ever  mentioned  bj-  him,  and  if  he  intends  to  be  faithful  to 
me.  I  will  do  nothing,  but  just  one  hint  to  the  contrary,  and 
Valery  Lee  is " 

"Hush,  hush,  Eosa!     His   tent  is  but  a  few  feet   from  here: 


L  ic  J 

he  may  even  now  be  listening  to  us.  Step  out  Kosa,  and  let  ua 
look  around,  so  that  you  can  get  used  to  the  change." 

Rosa  stepped  boldly  out  and  as  her  brother  whispered,  would 
you  like  to  see  him  ?  She  gladly  consented.  So  they  were  soon 
mingling  in  a  crowd  of  soldiers,  Valerj'  Lee  among  the  rest, 
who  failed  to  recognize  her.  After  Valery  Lee  had  conversed 
with  Mr.  Mortimer  Shei-wood  upon  various  subjects,  he  finaUy 
ventured  to  ask  the  fair  youth  if  he  was  a  relative  of  Miss  Eo.sa 
Sherwood,  of  Lichfield  ? 

"I  am,"  said  the  youth,  his  face  assuming  an  ashen  hue. 

"I  know  her  well,"  said  Valery  Lee.  "And  as  you  are  a 
relative,  I  suppose  that  you  have  a  natural  interest  in  her  ?" 
continued  he. 

"  Certainly  I  have,"  said  the  youth,  "and  praj'  sii-,"  resumed 
he,  "  may  I  ask  what  you  know  of  my  fan-  cousin,  since  you 
speak  so  confidingly  to  me  ?" 

"I  hope,"  said  Valery  Lee  confidingly,  "that  you  will  not 
consider  my  trust  presumptuous  ?" 

"Not  at  all,"  replied  the  youth.  "On  the  contraiy,  I  con- 
consider  myself  highly  honored  with  the  confidence  of  a 
'stranger.' " 

"Well,"  resumed  Valery  Lee,  "I  once  loved  Eosa  Sherwood, 
and  but  for  the  weakness  of  woman  displayed  in  her,  I  would 
still  love  her;  but  again,  that  can  never  be.  Although  my  com- 
rades think  me  unmovable  upon  the  subject  of  matrimony,  yet, 
there  is  one  dear  creature  that  lives  but  a  short  distance  from 
here,  visited  by  me,  when  all  think  me  taking  my  usual  solitary 
walk.  Yes,  she  is  soon  to  be  mine,  my  own  Miriam.  But  sir, 
remember  my  confidence;  although  you  are  a  stranger,  but  few 
know  of  my  approaching  union  with  the  *  idol "  of  my  heart, 
Miriam  Ludlow. " 

"  Good  night,"  said  the  youth,  suddenly  turning  from  Lee, 
and  resuming  his  walk,  he  soon   entered  Capt.  .Sherwood's  tent. 

CHAPTER    III. 

DwiGHi  Sherwood  entered  his  tent  and  beheld  his  beautiful 
sister  in  an  agony  of  weeping.  As  she  recognized  her  brother's 
footstep,  she  arose,  and  with  a  voice  tremulous  with  a  deter- 
mined passion,  she  said,  "Dwight,  my  own  dear  brother,  it 
must  be  done.  I  have  heard  it  all."  and  she  almost  shrieked, 
He  is  to  be  married  soon  to  one  Miriam  Ludlow.  He  uncon- 
sciously gave  rae  his  confidence,  supposing  me  to  be  only 
Rosa  Sherwood's  cousin,  he  told  me  all.  So  D\\ight.  it  must 
be  done ! 

"  But  when  Rosa  ?"  inquired  Dwight. 

"  Oh  I"  said  she.  "the  night  that  will  consummate  his  fondest 
hopes,  and  that  will  be  a  seal  to  my  lasting  misery.  I  have 
promised  to  stand  by  you  in  this  awful  hour  of  revenge  for 
^Tongs  that  can  never  be  revenged.  Oh  I  revenge  is  sweet." 
said  Rosa,  "audi  will  havs  it" 


[  17  J 

"But  hoAv  is  it  to  be  managed?''  inquired  Dwight,  with 
anxiety. 

"Well,"  said  Kosa,  "you  must  manage  to  get  an  invitation 
to  the  marriage,  then " 

"Then  what?  my  poor  sister," 

"Then,  I  tell  you,  my  brother,  all  will  be  ri^ht." 

"How  will  you  manage,  Eosa?  Tell  mc  quick,  while  you 
have  a  chance  ?" 

Eosa  drew  from  her  pocket  a  small  vial,  containing  the  most 
deadly  poison,  and  handing  it  to  her  brother,  said,  ""  that  is  for 
her,"  and  this  said,  dra-^-ing  from  her  bosom  a  gleaming 
stiletto,  "this  too,  shall  find  its  way  to  his  heart !" 

"As you  please,  Eosa,"  said  Dwight,  "but  would  to  God,  I 
could  win  you  from  such  a  terrible  determination." 

CHAPTEE  lY. 

Day  after  day  rolled  on,  and  ^Mortimer  Sherwood  was  the 
regular  attendant  of  Captain  Sherwood,  frequently  serving 
Valery  Lee's  mess  in  the  capacity  of  a  lackey,  but  was  never 
discovered.  Finally  Yalery  Lee's  marriage  eve  arrived,  and  as 
Dwight  and  Mortimer  Sherwood  were  privately  im-ited,  they 
made  every  preparation  for  the  event,  and  repaired  to  Ludlow 
Manor,  where,  in  all  splendor  of  wealth  and  luxurv,  they  found 
the  mansion  crowded  ^^'ith  the  fairest,  of  Eichm^ond's'  lovely 
daughters.  And  in  the  midst  of  all,  was  seen  the  beautiful 
bride,  clad  in  robes  of  splendor.  She  was  surpassingly  beauti- 
ful, and  as  Eosa  glanced  at  her  happy  countenance,  a  pang  of 
regret  entered  her  heart,  but  stifling  her  better  feeling,  she 
murmured,  "Never!  never!  This  night  shall  seal  my  determi- 
nation." 

The  ceremony  was  over  and  all  were  revelling  in  the  joy  of  a 
wedding  feast.  The  lovely  bride  was  seen  to  take  a  glass  con- 
taining wine  from  a  small  table,  and  as  she  bowed  gracefully, 
she  drank  a  toast  to  all. 

"Well  done,  my  Miriam,"  said  Valery  Lee. 
Miriam  strove  to  reply,  but  the  efifort  proved  fruitless.     She 
staggered  and  fell  to  the  floor  a  stiffened  corpse !" 

Valery  Lee  was  in  an  agony  of  grief,  as  he  bowed  in  bitter 
wTetchedness  over  the  lovely  form  of  Miriam  cold  in  death. 

A  thousand  inquiries  were  made  concerniiig  her  sudden  death. 
Not  a  suspicion  crossed  the  mind  of  any  one,  that  she  had  been 
l^oisoned. 

Eosa  Sherwood  knew  the  source  well,  and  as  she  chuckled  in 
demoniac  glee  over  her  work,  she  departed  with  her  brother, 
who  by  this  time  was  terribly  agitated,  fearing Eosa's  discovery: 
and  as  he  again  pleaded  ^^-ith  her  to  return  home,  her  only 
answer  was : 

"No,  he  shall  go  next !  and  then " 

"WTiat?  my  poor  MTetched  sister. " 

"I  will  go  in  the  first  fight,  a  ad  hope  I  will  receive  my  just 


[  18  J 

punishment,  by  a  ball  that  will  put  an  end  to  mv   miserable 
existence." 

"  O,  Eosa  !  my  poor  sister." 

"Hnsh,  Dwight,  your  pleading  is  useless.  I  am  deter- 
mined." 

They  reached  the  camp,  and  entering  their  tent,  they  threw 
themselves  upon  their  humble  beds.  But  there  was  no  sleep 
lor  wi-etched  Eosa  I  Eacked  with  the  pain  of  bitter  remorse, 
Morning  dawTied,  and  finding  her  still  awake  and  poignantly 
sensible  of  her  crime,  the  first  thing  she  addressed  to  heV 
brother,  was  the  inquuy,  '-where  is  Yalery  Lee,  has  he  anived 
yet?"    Just  then  Valeiy  Lee  accosted  Dwight  Mith  : 

"Good  morning,  Capt.  Sherwood?  I  would  like  to  get  a 
little  brandy,"  his  voice  was  low  and  husky,  and  as  he  strove  to 
converse  with  D\Wght,  he  apologized  for  his  stupor,  as  he  called 
it,  and  without  fiu'ther  ceremony  he  departed. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Eosa,  "so,  sir  deceiver,  you  are  going  to 
drink  away  your  sorrow.  Perhaps  in  the  dawn  of  to-morrow, 
you  will  have  more  to  brood  over." 

True  enough,  for  on  that  solemn  night,  when  all  seemed 
A\Tapped  in  deepened  soitow,  a  fonn  was  seen  creeping  softly  in 
the  direction  of  Yalery  Lee's  tent.  And  as  it  stealthily  entered, 
all  within  was  as  still  as  death,  save  the  troubled  breathing  of 
Valeiy  Lee,  who  ever  and  anon,  uttered  the  name  of  ^Miriam,  in 
his  sleep.  Eosa  could  scarcely  supjH-ess  a  scream,  as  her  feel- 
ings went  forth  in  bitter  agony  at  the  sound  of  Miriam  Ludlow's 
name  uttered  in  such  tender  accents  by  the  voice  of  one  she 
once  loved.  She  waited,  soon  Yalery  Lee  turned  restlessly  over, 
and  inquired  of  his  mate,  "Eh,  Nelson,  was  that  you?" 

"\Yhat?"  replied  Nelson,  half  awake. 

"I  thought,"  said  Yalery,  "I  hoard  a  heavy  breathing  near 
me,  but  I  guess  it  was  you." 

"Y'es,"  said  Nelson,  who  was  soon  sound  asleep. 

Eosa  was  again  assured  of  Yalery  Lees  deep  slumber,  and 
musing  low  to  herself,  "my  hour  has  come,  and  his  I"  and 
plunging  the  dagger  up  to  the  hilt  m  his  bosom,  it  done  the 
wished  for  work.  Yalery  Lee  died  without  a  groan.  As  Eosa 
withdrew  the  weapon,  she  dii'ected  her  steps  towards  the  river, 
avoiding  the  sentinels,  she  soon  reached  it  :  and  after  medita- 
ting a  few  moments  upon  the  conclusion  of  her  vengeance,  she 
attached  a  stone  to  the  fatal  weapon,  and  casting  it  in  the 
bubbling  stream,  it  sank  to  rise  no  more. 

"  Well  done,  brave  heart ! "  exclaimed  the  wretched  girl,  "he 
vvill  never  deceive  another."     Oh!  my  child,  my  precicms  child. 

For  a  few  moments,  she  gave  up  to  her  bitterness  of  grief,  in 
venting  the  burning  tears  that  told  of  her  undoing  agony. 

"It  is  done,"  again  exclaimed  Eosa.  '"and  now,"  said  she, 
"my  time  comes  next!" 

She  retraced  her  steps  cautiously,  and  regaining  her  brother's 
tent,  she  found  him  anxiously  waiting  for  her.     As  she  entered, 


L  19  ] 

he  arose,  and  embraced  her  tenderly,  cind  in  a  voice  of  deep 
emotion,  he  exchiimed  :  '*0  !  my  sister,  would  to  God  I  could 
have  spared  you  this  misery  I" 

''Don't  be  troubled,  dear  brother,  on  my  account.  I  will  not 
be  here  long  to  give  cure  to  any  one." 

"O!  speak  not  so,  my  poor  sister!  your  Vjrother  can  never  be 
happy  again." 

"  O !  dear  brother,  it  is  useless  to  repine  at  my  sad  fate,  for  I 
have  brought  it  all  upon  myself,  my  own  v;retched  impru- 
dence. Life  can  never  have  any  charms  for  me  again,  I  do  not 
wish  to  live.  Yet  I  am  not  fit  to  die  I  And,  0  !  I  know  he  will 
not  meet  with  a  better  tiitc  in  eternity  I  It  is  meet  that  I  should 
share  it  with  him." 

"01  sister,  can  I  not  persuade  you  to  return  to  our  poor 
father  and  mother,  and  your  child.  O!  sister,  your  poor 
child!" 

Hush,  hush,  brother  I  say  no  more,  you  will  drive  me  mad ! 
You  know  my  purpose  is  tixed. 

Kosa  and  Dwight  retired  early,  and  rising  early  the  folloAving 
morning,  they  sauntered  leisurely  along  around  the  camps,  and 
were  repeatedly  asked  if  they  had  heard  of  Yalerj'  Lee's  death. 

Of  course,  both  feigned  great  surprise.  And  finally,  the 
excitement  died  away,  and  no  suspicions  were  ever  aroused  by 
Rosa  Sherwood's  (alias)  Mortimer  Sherwood's  appearance. 

CHAPTER  Y. 

All  around  seemed  culm,  and  even  still,  as  daylight  faded 
over  plain  and  hill,  the  sentinels  M'ere  keeping  their  regular 
guard,  surrounded  by  the  watchful  pickets  of  Johnson's  army. 
They  had  waited,  it  seemed,  all  day  with  patience,  for  a  battle. 
As  rumors  had  been  afloat  in  camps  for  several  daj's,  of  an 
approaching  straggle  with  the  enemy,  who  were  then  prying 
around  to  ascertain  the  strength  of  our  brave  band.  And  at 
last,  when  night  came  upon  them,  and  still  no  signal  for  the 
strife,  they  all  seemed  satisfied  that  the  enemy  would  not 
attack  them  in  the  night. 

It  was  even  so;  but  just  as  the  golden  sun  arose  clear  and 
resplendent  from  out  of  the  Eastern  horizon,  making  every 
object  look  cheerful,  covered  with  its  bright  beams,  the  signal 
for  the  approaching  battle  was  heard,  and  "forward,  march!" 
was  responded  to  bj"  our  dear  brave  Southern  boys,  with  a 
spirit  that  panted  to  meet  the  hated  foe.  On,  on,  thej'  moved, 
their  dazzling  steel  gleaming  out  in  threatening  vengeance.  At 
last  the  battle  began,  the  flashing  artillery  pealed  forth  in  its 
deadly  thunder;  and  as  the  unerring  rifles  crack,  in  the  midst  of 
the  strife,  they  too,  make  many  a  brave  heart  bite  the  dust. 
Hour  after  hour  passed,  and  still  the  battle  raged  in  unabated 
fury.     0 !  many,  many  sank  to  rise  no  more ! 

There  was  one  brave  form  that  fought  unwaveringly,  until  at 
last,  he  fell  mortally  wounded,  and  as  he  cried  for  help,  a  sur. 


[  20 


geon  was  quickly  by  the  side  of  the  fair  form,  and  as  he  bcudec 
gently  over  the  beautiful  face,  its  surpassing  beauty  si:)ell-bounc 
the  kind  hearted  physician.  And  to  use  his  own  words, 
sweeter  voice  never  fell  upon  the  ear  of  mortal  man,  a  mort 
beautiful  face  never  met  the  admiring  gaze  of  human."  At 
last,  he  kindly  enquired,  "can  you  tell  me  where  you  arc 
wounded  ?'' 

'■■  Yes,  ye.s,  here,"  said  the  musical  voice,  laying  a  small  whit( 
hand  on  one  side,  where   the  blood  wus  gushing  out  profusely, 
which  in  the  intensity  of  his  excitement,  the  surgeon  had  faile( 
to  notice.     He  proceeded  to  rip  open  the  close  fitting  soldier's 
jacket.     "When  lo!  a  new  wonder  was  displayed  to  him,  aiul 
casting  another  glance  at  his  patienfs  lace,  instead  of  the  low] 
soldier  cap  that  almost  screened  a  jetty  black  wig — it  had  falleiii 
off  and  a  cloud  of  golden  curls   shrouded  the  snow  white  bro^^| 
of  this  lovely  creature,  corresponding  so  well  with  the  soft  blutj 
eye,  now  almost  dim  with  the   dew  of  approaching  death.     Alf 
satisfied  him  that  his  patient  was  a  lovelv  maiden  in   disguisej 

"Call,  call,"  she  said  taintly. 

'  •  Who  would  you  see  ?"'  said  the  kind  man. '" 

"  Call  my  brother,  Dwight  Sherwood,  if  you  know  him.     H»; 
was   near  me   when  I  ftll.''     The   surgeon  obeyed,    and  sopf 
returned  with  Capt.  Dwight  Sherwood.     She  made  an  effort  tcj 
speak,  but  failed  at   first,  her  voice  was   so  husky,  that   even 
when  she  did  speak,  her  words  were   scarcely  intelligible.     Buj 
to  the  practiced  ear  of  her  brother,  who  had  known  and  love.| 
that  voice  from  childhood,  he  understood  all.     "Dwight,"  saic 
she,  "you  have  been  foithful  to  me,  and  0!  brother,  you  kno^ 
my  sad  story  ;  but  too  well  you  know  that  this  is  the  reward 
revenge,  which  the  Lord  saith  'Is  Mine.'     I  was  not  willing  U 
wait  His  vengeance,  I  wreaked  it  myself,  and  now  I  go   to  b| 
punished  accordingh*.     Come  nearer,  brother.     Tell  my  mothcj 
to  raise  my  child  in*^the  fear  of  the  Lord.     Tell  her  to  forgivJ 
my  rashness,  for  0  !"  said  she,  "I  refused  to  listen  to  her  kini 
counsel,  she   begged  me  to  leave  it  all  to  God.     I  would  not 
Bury  me  brother,  in  some  lone  sj^ot,  where  there  is  no  fear 
intrusion,  where  my  body  will  rest.     O,  God  I    have  mercy  o:| 
my  soul !     Tell  not  my  'child  of  my  sad  end  ;    let  her  bo 
stranger  to  the  history  of  wTetched  mother.     Farewell." 

Thus  died  the   beautiful,  and  once  beloved   Rosa  Sherwooc 
whose  name  may  be  recognized  by  many. 

Her  brother  buried  her  in  a  sweet  seclrided  .spot,  and  plantej 
a  simple  rose  busli  over  her  grave  :  ' '  emblem  of  her  that  vrt 
once  pure  and  lovely."  Xo  marble  slab  is  erected  there  to  te) 
the  passer  by  whose  remains  are  interred  in  that  beautiful  spol 
But,  Ah  :  Dwight  Sherwood  w-ill  never  forget  it.  But  kneelinj 
in  an  agony  of  weeping  over  her  lovely  form,  he  vowed  to  makj 
that  place  a  spot  for  sacred  worship,  in  memory  of  the  sister  (j 
his  childhood.  There  he  will  go  when  no  eye  beholds  his  sorroA 
loving  her  memory  dearer  than  the  pilgnm.  who  consecrate 
bis  worship  to  the  Temples  of  Mecca, 


